


When the Cats are Away, the Cryptids Can Play

by mldrgrl



Category: The X-Files
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Humor, New Relationship, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-21
Updated: 2020-05-21
Packaged: 2021-03-02 18:46:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,363
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24311509
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mldrgrl/pseuds/mldrgrl
Summary: A request for Mulder and Scully's first weekend away together as a couple.
Relationships: Fox Mulder/Dana Scully
Comments: 16
Kudos: 140





	When the Cats are Away, the Cryptids Can Play

She suspects ulterior motives from the moment he asks her to go away for a long weekend. It’s April, so it’s probably too early for Bigfoot hunting, and she’s pretty sure there aren’t any Mothmen or sea monsters in the Poconos, but then again, that’s not her area of expertise. Still, she says yes, admitting that there is a part of her that is a little curious what he’s got up his sleeve. Ghosts, probably. Or some obscure, local legendary creature.

It doesn’t even dawn on her, at first, that this is their first weekend away together.  _ Together _ . She’s so accustomed to the sudden road trips at all hours and days of the week that it’s not until she’s packing her bag that it hits her that this is a weekend away for pleasure, not for work. She bypasses the suits in her closet for jeans and casual sweaters, but packs her gun and hiking boots, still convinced she’ll be out chasing some kind of monster at some point.

He picks her up early, even comes to the door to collect her and her bag instead of calling ahead to meet him at the curb. They spend a few minutes kissing hello, one of her favorite things about this new development in their relationship. She likes that she can feel his smile against her mouth when she wraps her arms around his neck. She likes the happy little moan he always makes when he squeezes her tight. She likes the unhappy little groan he always makes when they break apart.

“All set?” he asks, grabbing her bag and hoisting the strap over his shoulder.

She nods and plucks a bit of lint from his sweater before running her hand over his chest. She likes that she can touch him freely now, but sometimes she still feigns an excuse. He tickles the palm of her hand with his fingers as they walk side by side down the front steps to the car, his subtle way of holding her hand without holding her hand. They’re trying to be discreet about their relationship, not keeping it secret, but not broadcasting it either.

Once they’re in the car though, once they’re on the road and out of the city, he’s got the armrest between their seats down and her hand wrapped in his, occasionally bringing her knuckles to his mouth so he can kiss the back of her hand. And he sings with the radio, softly and mostly to himself, but not something he usually does on road trips. And she lays her head back and openly gazes at him. When he happens to notice, he turns his eyes back to the road, but he grins broadly and squeezes her hand.

She’s been wholly unobservant on their ride, doesn’t know exactly where he’s taking her, and doesn’t know how he even got them there without consulting a map. She just knows they’ve been driving for a few hours and now they’re stopped at a cabin in what feels like the middle of nowhere.

“We’re here,” he says, unnecessarily.

“This is it?” she answers, equally unnecessarily.

They stay in the car for a few more moments, observing the secluded little cabin and it’s wrap-around porch. The trees are so thick around them that the sunlight can barely peak through.

“Keys should be in a lockbox on the screen door,” he says. “Combination 2597. I’ll grab the bags.”

Scully gets out of the car and breathes in the crisp, fresh air. When she closes her door, it startles some unseen birds nearby and they fly off, rattling the leaves in the trees and screeching out their annoyance. The porch is surprisingly sturdy, even if the wood is warped in spots. It’s been well-maintained throughout the years. She’s dawdled so long taking in the scenery that Mulder is already behind her and drops the bags down as she twists the right combination into the lock to obtain the necessary key.

“Oh…” She gasps quietly once she opens the door.

“Nice?”

It’s a single room, but it includes everything that anyone who ever described a romantic getaway might include. There’s a king-sized bed with a down comforter and fluffy pillows, a stone fireplace, twin window seats at each window, a squat round table nestled between two wingback chairs, and what must simply be described as the pièce de résistance, an antique, copper, double slipper bathtub adjacent the fireplace.

“I love it,” she murmurs.

“Good.”

She moves deeper into the cabin to do some more inspection. There are two pocket doors on opposite ends of one wall. Behind the first one she finds a small bathroom and behind the second, a narrow set of shelves and a rack with coat hangers.

“Thought we might go up to get lunch and then maybe order room service tonight,” Mulder says.

“Room service?” She spies what looks like a menu on the table and picks it up.

“Yeah, there’s supposed to be a trail behind the cabin leading up to a main house. There’s a cafe and a pool somewhere.”

“I thought we might be in the middle of nowhere.”

“It’s a neat trick. I’m gonna unpack and we’ll head up.”

Scully sits down at the edge of the bed and the comforter sinks under her weight. She runs her hands over the smooth, white duvet. Her gaze is drawn to the bathtub. Their intimate relationship is still so new that just the thought of sinking into that tub, with Mulder, brings a rush of heat to her cheeks, and she turns her eyes away and watches him unpack instead.

“No hiking boots?” she asks, as he folds up his bag and stuffs it into one of the cubbyhole-like shelves. 

“No. Did you want to go hiking?”

“Not really.”

“Should we go on up, or…” He looks at her trailing her hands back and forth over the duvet. “Did you have something else in mind?”

She actually has a lot of things in mind, but her stomach growls at the thought of food. He chuckles and holds out his hands to her to pull her up from the bed. With their fingers laced together, he brings their arms behind her back and bends to kiss her. She tries to twist free, but he has the advantage and she stumbles against him and laughs as his lips tickle her neck.

“Mulder,” she breathes, butting him in the chin with her shoulder.

“Mmhm.”

“Feed me.”

He releases her after one last kiss to the back of her jaw. They find the trail around the backside of the cabin with ease and move single file up the winding dirt path, through the trees, until they reach a clearing and a much larger, two-story cabin. The cafe is actually just an enclosed patio with a handful of tables. They’re the only two there.

Scully is pretty sure now is the time that Mulder is going to spring whatever ulterior motive brought them to this place, but instead he tells her a story about a camping trip with his father when he was in the third grade. He rests his hand on her leg at some point and keeps it there, slowly drawing circles against the outside of her knee with his thumb. She finds it so endearing she can barely eat her sandwich or concentrate on his story.

The plump and tiny woman who served their lunch brings them fresh baked chocolate chip cookies after she clears their plates. They’re warm and softy and gooey and utterly messy. Crumbs and melted chocolate stain her fingers and the corners of her mouth. She wipes her hands clean and goes to clean her face as well, but Mulder stops her.

“Allow me,” he murmurs, leaning over to kiss the side of her mouth. While there, he rubs his tongue over her bottom lip. “Delicious.”

“Mulder,” she murmurs, trying to sound chastising, but her voice is too husky to come off as scolding.

“Cabin?”

“Yes.”

He tells her to wait just a second and leaves her for a moment at the door to go back to talk to the lady. Probably getting maps to UFO sightings, she thinks. There’s a rack of postcards and local guides next to the door and she browses them for something interesting. She can’t hear what Mulder is discussing with the old woman, but he comes back smiling.

He’s handsy with her on the way back to the cabin, sliding his hands over her hips or shoulders. She laughingly swats him away and they ‘accidentally’ bump into each other more than once. As soon as they’re inside, he has his arms around her and is backing her up on tip-toe as he kisses her across the room to the bed. He turns just in time to be the one to fall back, taking her with him with an oof and a laugh. She has never been with anyone so playful as Mulder is. Just another of the dozens of new aspects about him she’s learned in the last few months and come to enjoy and love.

Using Mulder’s chest for leverage, Scully sits up over his hips, her thighs tucked up against his sides. He’s relaxed under her, unhurried, slides his hands over hers where they rest on his chest, and moves up and along the inside of her arms and back. She twists their fingers together after his third pass of this and he gives her a slight tug, pitching her forward so his hands are pinned to the bed by his head and she’s nose to nose with him.

“Well, hello,” he says.

“Hello yourself.”

He nuzzles her cheek with his nose and she replies with an eskimo kiss.

“What did you want to talk to that lady about?” she asks.

“What lady?”

“What lady? The lady in the cafe.”

“Wanted to tell her the cookies were delicious.”

“I don’t believe you.”

Without warning, Mulder squeezes her hands and then flips her onto her back, straddling her hips. She squirms beneath him and he tries to kiss her, but she turns her head from side to side and he ends up peppering her face with tiny kisses as she laughs.

“Tell me,” she says.

“Tell you what?”

“Is this cabin haunted?”

He stops and pulls back a little, his head tipped quizzically to the side. “Why, did you see a ghost?”

“There’s no such thing as ghosts.”

“Then I guess it’s probably not haunted.”

“Probably, but not certainly?”

“What’re you getting at?”

“I’ve just been trying to figure out why we’re here.”

He drops his pelvis suggestively into hers and raises his brows. “It isn’t obvious?”

“I mean, why are we  _ here _ ?”

“Well…” Mulder looks back over his shoulder and then down at Scully. “I thought you would like the bathtub.”

“Come on.”

“You don’t like the bathtub?”

“I do, but…” She trails off and he tips his head again. “No recent Bigfoot sightings?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Werewolves? Lights in the sky? Some giant, man-eating plant in the middle of the surrounding woods?”

“What, like Audrey II?” He chuckles and bends down to nip at her shoulder. “Feed me, Scully, feed me!”

It tickles and she chuckles, wresting her hands free to push at his chest. “No monsters? No aliens? No conspiracies? Really?”

“I know my track record isn’t all that great, but when I suggested a weekend away, I really did mean a weekend away. So, I went to a travel agency, I gave the woman there some details, she gave me some brochures and here we are.”

“What kind of details?”

“I asked for the least haunted place she could find where no cryptids have ever set foot and no one has ever heard of aliens.”

She pinches his chest in mock annoyance and he feigns a yelp of pain.

“Honestly,” he says. “I just asked for some place romantic and private, out of the city, easy to get to. I saw the photos of the place and that tub and I thought, well that looks like Scully.”

“I have a perfectly good bathtub at home, you know.”

“You want to go back?”

“No.”

“We could keep heading west. Try to investigate the storm hag of Lake Erie.”

“The storm hag of Lake Erie?”

“Oh yeah, they say she can spit lightning and swallow ships whole.”

Scully pinches his chest a little harder this time and he grabs her hands again to pin them back to the bed.

“You know I’d choose you over any cryptid any day, don’t you?” he asks.

“Even the Loch Ness Monster?”

“Takes too long to get there.”

“The Fiji Mermaid?”

“She doesn’t return my calls.”

“Bigfoot?”

“Oh now, I have to think about that one. We go way back.”

Scully chuckles and then drops her eyes, suddenly feeling a little bashful for not having trusted in him when he said he wanted to get away with her. But, then again, there was still one question he hadn’t answered.

“Then what did you want to talk to that lady about?”

Mulder groans softly and tips his head back. “I ordered a dozen roses to be delivered with dinner tonight and I just wanted to make sure they arrived.”

“Oh.”

“Are you always going to be this impossible to surprise?”

“Probably.”

“Guess I’ve got my work cut out for me.”

“Did you expect something different?”

“Not at all.” 

“Mulder, I...I’m sorry I doubted you.”

“I’m used to it. Don’t worry, I still love you.”

“You…” Her mouth drops open and she takes a swift breath in. He gives her a questioning look, but then seems to realize why she’s stunned silent and his mouth twitches as he forms words that don’t come.

“Oh, come on now,” he finally says. “You know I...you have to have known by now that…”

“I do,” she answers. “As much as you know that I...also do.”

He nods. She nods back.

“More than Bigfoot?” she asks.

“Way more,” he answers.

Her heart stutters and her stomach flutters. This just might be the best weekend away she’s ever had.

The End


End file.
